


Laceration

by coffeerepublic



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Adult Content, Angst, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fellatio, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Oral Sex, Psychological, Strong Language, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 13:09:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeerepublic/pseuds/coffeerepublic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was but an experiment to you.<br/>Only someone as selfish as yourself would become addicted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ;ritardando.

**Author's Note:**

> Re-posted from my Luna account.
> 
> Original preface:
> 
>  ~~Yes, yes, I shouldn't be starting another story. I know. Bear with me.~~ I was inspired, and I also feel the constant need to contribute to the alarmingly small list of Joey stories out there. Also, this shall be living up to the **Adult** rating quite soon.
> 
> Also, this is a response to **Random Person** 's 'Musical Jargons' challenge. First challenge ever for yours truly! :)
> 
> Furthermore, I am dedicating this to **theswisswereright** (in case she ever reads this, baha), for being the best reviewer ever. :3
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. ♥

Letting your head fall back softly against the wall you were leaning against, you sighed. This was the third weekend in a row that your best friend had decided to throw a party. These parties were supposed to be a sort of relaxant before the exam phase of your last year of high school would begin. The whole grade was invited, and even more people tended to show up. You shut your eyes, feeling as out of place as ever.

You opened them again a moment later when you heard someone call your name. Turning towards your friend – read: the party’s hostess – you were met with a can of cheap, premixed gin tonic being thrust into your hand. You chuckled, enjoying the hiss that sounded when you opened the beverage.

“Having fun?” she asked, raising her own can in your direction. You mimicked her movement, halfheartedly implying a toast before you raised the drink to your lips. It was your favorite.

“Sure.” But actually, you weren’t. There’s nothing you would have rather done at this moment than to go home, read a book and not talk to any of these people for the next few days. However, you couldn’t imagine that to be very beneficial concerning your social status. Façades needed maintaining, and you weren’t going to let yours crumble anytime soon.

Instead, you decided to engage in a short, superficial conversation with your friend. She was the exact type of person you needed to surround yourself with in public. Extremely popular, sweet most of the time – but she would never try to invade your privacy. You were rather sure that the sole reason for this was a lack of empathy; not that you minded.

A few minutes later, she bid you temporary farewell in order to return to her responsibilities as a hostess. You sighed once more and turned towards the door leading into the kitchen. Walking through the lot of people occupying the living room and the kitchen, you came past a group of drunk people playing a game of extreme truth or dare at the kitchen table. The music in the room was so loud that they had to yell to be able to even communicate. The stench of several different kinds of spilt alcohol stung in your nose. Your head hurt began to hurt. You needed to get out of here.

Taking a deep breath, you heard the glass door falling shut behind you as you stepped out onto the terrace. The stinging cold of the winter air hit you like a train. You crossed your arms, rubbing them to warm yourself up – you weren’t dressed for this kind of situation. But right now, even this seemed like a better choice compared to being in there. On the window sill next to you, you saw a pack of cigarettes. Opening it, you felt the need to thank the powers that be. It wasn’t empty.

Lighting one of the foreign cigarettes, you felt yourself beginning to calm down. You stood, staring straight on through into the nightly darkness, your eyes unfocused. Slowly exhaling a small cloud of smoke through your nose, you felt your mind being consumed with the most uncoordinated of thoughts. It was almost as if you had lost control over your own mind.

Soon, you had spent twenty minutes and three more cigarettes on trying to get your head in order. 

And quite suddenly, an unusual sense of indifference washed over you. It seemed to you that time had slowed down; you no longer felt the cold. The chaos that had until just now dominated inside your head was blown away as a realization hit you.

“Hey, aren’t you cold?” You turned around when your heard a voice coming from the direction of the house. Met with the sight of a young blond male, you smiled. It was one of the guys from your grade that you usually had nothing to do with – Joseph Wheeler.

“No,” you answered, still smiling widely as you flicked the ash off you cigarette before taking another drag. “But would you care to have a smoke with me?” You didn’t bother to mention that they weren’t yours in the first place.

He slowly walked towards you, fascinated by how friendly you were being. Weren’t you the kind of girl who normally wouldn’t be caught dead talking to someone like him? He doubted you even knew his name. He, however, of course knew who you were. Only a blind man would be able to miss you – and even said blind man would most definitely have heard about you. You were impossible to miss.

As he was taking the cigarette you were offering him from your delicate, pale hand, his eyes met yours. He just barely managed to keep himself from stumbling backwards. Looking away, he swallowed hard. Unlike your lips that were still curled into a – now seemingly too benign – smile, your eyes were devoid of any emotion.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, reaching into his pocket and lighting the poisonous stick. His eyes found their way back onto you. The embers illuminating your form just the tiniest bit, your skin seemed almost bluish. He caught himself thinking that you looked grotesquely beautiful.

“I saw you leaving the house, but you didn’t come back, so I…” Halfway through his sentence, he realized that you weren’t listening. Instead, you seemed to be staring intensely into the dark. So, for the next few minutes, silence fell upon the two of you.

Hearing him say your name hauled your back into reality. Your smoke had burned down to the filter, so you dropped it to the ground and stepped on it, extinguishing the small flame. Facing him, you took a small step, minimizing the distance between the both of you, your lips forming a smile once more. While pretty and less bizarre than before, it still seemed too artificial to him. That thought, however, was not currently the predominant one in his mind.

You were incredibly close, and whatever it had been that he had wanted to say to you just now, he had already forgotten. But that didn’t matter, as it was you who began to speak to him.

“Just before you came out here, I actually had an epiphany.” He hesitated before replying.

“What kind of epiphany?” The next moment, your smile had dropped and you were biting your lip. And, damn it, you were so, so close. He could barely still control himself.

“Nothing really matters, Joey.” It took him a second to process the fact that, against all odds, you actually did know his name. “Nothing at all matters.”

“What are you trying to say?” He realized that the feeling he had had about you all throughout this short conversation might not have been utterly wrong. You did, in fact, seem just the smallest bit crazy. Right in the same instant, it also became clear to him that, even if you were, he didn’t care at all.

“Just like I said.” Your voice was but a raw whisper now. You could hear your own heart beating in your ears. The party and all of those random people you could care less about seemed far away now. All that existed was you and him, whom you had never even spoken to before this fateful night.

“Nothing matters. Nothing at all.”

And before he knew it, your arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, your lips meeting his. It took him but a split second to return your kiss – passionate and open-mouthed right from the start. His hands found their place, one of them on the back of your head, deepening the kiss further, the other on your lower back, pulling you closer than seemed humanly possible.

You took a few steps backward, your lips never once disconnecting, until your back was against the house’s outer wall. His arms were now on either side of your head, helping him keep his balance as your tongue moved sensually against his own, perfectly synchronic. It was hard for him to grasp that yes, this was actually happening; and God, did it feel good.

Barely still able to think clearly, you were amazed at just how unexpectedly great this felt. You had decided to test out what freedom, what simply acting on your impulses felt like, and boy, were you being rewarded for that decision. This guy was one admirable kisser, and without further ado, you decided to reward him as well.

You moved your left hand from the back of his head and reached up, grabbing his right arm and pulling it down. You could feel him groaning deeply into your mouth when you moved it under your shirt. His fingers were icily cold against the skin of your stomach. As his hand slowly moved up your side, massaging the bare skin on its way, you broke the kiss for a short moment, head falling back as you moaned softly. You loved the feeling of his touches coupled with that of the freezingly cold air hitting the skin that was no longer covered by fabric.

He felt arousal quickly pooling in his lower body. Your red lips contrasting with the pale skin of your face, your hair tousled, your eyes heavily laden with lust – he wanted you, badly.

The realization you had had earlier – that nothing at all mattered – had carried along a promise. It had held the promise of freedom, the assurance that you would never regret anything again.

So you did what your lowest desires told you to do, uncaring whether anybody else were to come out here and hear you.

You leaned forward until you lips were almost touching the shell of his ear and whispered, “I want you inside me. So, so badly.”


	2. ;forte.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-posted from my Luna account.
> 
> Original preface:
> 
> Because I am the most inconsistent person in this world, I managed not to open the file I had saved this story in for months. Furthermore, not unlike our dear Franz Kafka, I tend to despise my own writing as soon as I've finished it.
> 
> However, I realized that I had never been able to write an ending for this chapter that would meet my own standards - a fact that, without a doubt, contributed to the negative sentiments I had been feeling towards this piece of writing. I managed to finally put down a satisfying one. I hope you feel the same way about it.

Upon entering his small apartment, you didn’t question the fact that he lived alone despite still going to high school. You were certain there were reasons – reasons you couldn’t bring yourself to care about. In the post-midnight darkness, you weren’t able to make out many of your surroundings as you kicked off your heels just behind the front door. The wooden floor cool against your bare feet, you silently walked on through an empty door frame into the adjacent room – apparently the only room besides kitchen and bathroom.

As you approached the window and looked out, you saw a rather shabby-looking patio surrounded by apartment buildings. This wasn’t exactly the best part of town. Behind you, you heard the front door being shut. A moment later, he entered the room, your head turning towards him. Seeing you standing in front of his window, your form just barely illuminated by the artificial light shining in from outside, he couldn’t help but marvel at the view. Against his somewhat messy home, you stood out like a fallen angel in the middle of a battlefield.

His slight trance was interrupted when you slowly walked towards him, discarding your jacket on the way. He watched as you stopped about a meter from him, locking eyes with him. Your gazes never breaking, you reached underneath your skirt and pulled down your leggings, slowly bending over to do so. At last, you kicked them to the side, rising again.

His eyes left yours for a moment and wandered down, towards your now bare legs. Weren’t you violating some kinds of moral bounds, wearing a skirt this short? His arousal returning, he began to feel a little bolder than he had until now. Just before, he would have guessed that you were simply a huge cocktease, and that this wasn’t leading anywhere. But the sole fact that you were here at this moment was living proof that you apparently wanted this just as much as he did.

He leaned down slightly, pulling you in for a kiss. In your heels, you had been almost the same height as him. Without them, you now were several inches shorter than him – another factor that made him feel like he was at least somewhat in control now. This he made known to you through his actions when his hands found the backs of your thighs, picking you up. You couldn’t quite contain a gasp as you broke the kiss in surprise, quickly grabbing onto his shoulders as to not lose your balance.

The next moment, your back met his mattress, him hovering above you, between your spread legs. Looking up at his – as you had to admit – handsome face, you smirked. You certainly didn’t mind this sudden dominance he exerted on you.

Taking in the sight of you underneath him, he felt his erection growing harder. Now that the both of you had some privacy, there was no more need to hurry. But the way your body twitched beneath him, your skirt having ridden up to your hips, your lascivious gaze seemingly boring right through him – it was getting harder to not simply rip off your remaining clothes and ravish you.

Suddenly, he realized that he was wearing entirely too much clothing to befit this situation. He quickly pulled off his own shirt, almost immediately feeling your cool hands on his torso. As he leaned down towards you once more, your hands found the back of his neck. Instead of kissing him, however, you turned your head and attached your lips to his neck, caressing the skin just below his Adam’s apple.

He moaned rather quietly, to which you soon responded by giving small licks, nibbles and even slightly biting the skin of his neck. Simultaneously, he used one of his hands to reach down and push up your shirt once more. While the skin just above your hipbone had been covered in goose bumps just about half an hour before, it was now perfectly smooth beneath his fingertips. Pushing the fabric up higher, he revealed your bra-clad breasts.

You were forced to stop the assault on his neck when he sat up between your legs. The very next instant, you unintentionally let out a small sound in surprise and sudden pleasure when he grabbed your thighs once again and pulled your groin against his. Through your thin underwear and his pants, you could feel what was unmistakably his erection. For your taste, this was taking far too long.

What you didn’t know was that he didn’t want to rush this. He wanted to make this truly worth your while. Whatever improbable coincidence it was that had let to this sexual encounter between a brute like himself and someone as unattainable as you – he wanted to savor every last minute of it. Lying there in front of him, in complete submission, your eyes clouded with lust, you might just have been the sexiest thing he had ever laid eyes on. He caught your hands as you tried to take your shirt off – he was having fun torturing you.

“Just fuck me already, will you?” Your voice was hoarse from not-speaking, but nonetheless demanding; so maybe you weren’t quite as submissive as he had assumed. Damn, he wouldn’t have thought that it was possible for a delicate girl like you to have such a foul mouth. He also wouldn’t have expected himself to be so incredibly turned on by it.

Reaching up, you managed to pull him back down on top of you. Somewhat abiding by your wish, he responded by taking off his own pants. You sighed in frustration, arching your back and pressing your still covered chest against his bare one.

“Please?” you tried another approach. And it seemed to work, seeing as your shirt and bra soon left your body as well. He leaned down to kiss you, rather forcefully fondling your breasts at the same time. As he began to pinch your hardened nipples between his fingers, you mewled into his mouth in desperation. He broke the kiss for a moment, a little out of breath when he spoke your name for the first time since you had arrived here.

“You don’t know just how badly I want you right now,” he breathed out. You reached downwards, pulling his boxers down his slender hips. He took them off, enjoying the way you looked down at his length – obviously pleased, yet not the slightest bit embarrassed. He was so aroused it was almost painful. You felt the same way.

“Then take me.” You weren’t going to have to tell him that again. Straddling you, he reached into his nightstand’s first drawer. Realizing that the torturously long, though highly enjoyable foreplay was nearing its end, you no longer hesitated to finally take off your skirt and underwear. The latter was soaked to a degree that could have made you blush, but didn’t.

Having put on the condom, he almost forcefully spread your legs as far apart as he could. Without preparing you any further – and you were tempted to actually thank him for that – he pushed himself inside you in one fluid motion. You felt your insides being spread by his rather impressive girth and didn’t resist the desire to loudly moan his name. How long had you been longing for this feeling of completeness now? To you, it felt like hours.

Through the haze of lust in his brain arrived the realization that this was, despite all of the doubts residing in his mind, real. This was like a dream come true. God, being inside you felt like he was hitting home.

He began to move, and he did so fast right from the start. You hadn’t been prepared for it and couldn’t help but scream in pleasure when he drove himself into you hard and rapidly. Clawing away at his back with one hand, you dragged the fingernails of the other across the valley between your breasts. You had been underestimating him – this was perfect.

Watching your body writhing underneath his own, he groaned in contentment. The way your back arched as you were half touching, half scratching away at yourself gave him even more incentive to push inside you harder. He firmly gripped your hips in both of his hands, lifting them slightly to be able to access you at a better angle.

Heavily breathing, you begged him to go faster – but instead of listening to you, he slowed his own movements. After each single, pinpoint stroke, he pulled out completely, causing you such pleasure. Yet, at the same time, his slow pace was enough to basically drive you insane.

“Please,” You whispered his name huskily. “Please go faster!” Your attempt to move your hips up to meet his thrusts failed as he held them in place. Slowly, but surely, however, his speed increased once more.

Pushing your hands into his soft mop of blondness, you pulled him into a passionate kiss, your tongues meeting as you felt yourself nearing your orgasm. Feeling your walls twitching irregularly around his cock, he slowed the speed of his pounding into you one last time, doing his best to prolong your orgasm. And he succeeded – you whimpered as your insides began to incontrollably contract around him. Pushing into you again and again, he soon failed to hold onto himself any longer.

Coming undone, he kept thrusting inside of you until his muscles threatened to give in.

After he had regained a hold of himself, he moved to roll off your body, surprised to find your arms around his shoulders, holding him in place. His eyes met yours, and he thought he saw a tiny glimpse of something not quite definable in the way you looked at him. Was it weakness? Regardless, it was gone as soon as he had blinked.

“Stay inside me just a little longer,” you murmured. And then, in an almost inaudible voice, you added, “Please.”


	3. ;staccato.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-posted from my Luna account.
> 
> Original preface:
> 
> I'd like to thank **girlinatree** and **Miss Chocobo** for reviewing. I appreciate it a lot. ♥
> 
> By the way, just in case you were afraid that after Chapter 2, there would be no more porn, don't you fret. You haven't seen the end of it.

Within a few weeks, it had become a confirmed habit of yours to be found at Joey’s apartment. When you had taken to joining him on his walk home after school every few days, he had been surprised but had also decided not to mention it for fear that you would stop doing so.

As he came out of his bathroom, hair wet from the shower he had just taken, he spotted you sitting on his bed, bent over and scribbling into a school notebook. You seemed to be concentrating, not taking any notice of him while he, on the other hand, noticed every detail about you. Your outfit was a combination of brightly colored cotton panties, the hooded jacket he had been wearing this morning at school and striped knee socks. One of said socks was actually properly pulled up to your knee, the other one bunched up around your ankle. His jacket’s sleeves were too long for your arms and you had rolled them up to the middle of your forearms, emphasizing the delicateness of your wrists. The zipper was pulled down just far enough for the fabric to be covering your breasts while thoughtlessly revealing the valley between them. He realized that if only he were to reach out, he would be able to feel your sternum protruding from under your cold, pale skin.

You were always cold to the touch.

He caught himself thinking how he had never realized that he could find a girl in such casual attire so desirable.

You, of course, had noticed his presence in the room. However, you were too distracted by your Mathematics homework to pay too much attention to him. You tended to take your obligations seriously.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sitting down next to you and leaning over your notes.

“Careful, you’re dripping on my homework,” you stated calmly, wiping the paper with the underside of your wrist, only worsening the damage done to the ink.

“I haven’t even quite recovered from before and here’s you, doing calculus homework that isn’t even due until next Monday.” He let himself fall back on his disheveled covers. You responded by chuckling lightly before getting up and putting your notebook back inside your bag.

“I had originally been contemplating whether to join you in the shower,” you began, unzipping and taking off his jacket and dropping it to the floor. “But then I realized that your shower is too small to comfortably accommodate two people at the same time. Besides, I still hurt inside. You were rough before.”

While speaking the last sentence, you met his eyes for the first time since you had begun to speak. Joey didn’t manage to hold your gaze, looking away almost immediately in what seemed to be – but from your point of view shouldn’t have been – embarrassment .

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled bashfully, watching from the corner of his eye as you picked up the bra and top he had eased off your body barely one and a half hours earlier. You continued to get dressed, your voice still tranquil as ever as you spoke.

“Please don’t ever say that again. I like it an awful lot when you are moderately brutal. Why do you think I come back here every few days? It’s because whenever I can’t feel the physical aftermath of sleeping with you anymore, I start missing it.”

Silence fell over the both of you for what might have been mere seconds but, to him, felt like minutes, dragging on and on.

“How can you say something so vulgar and be so… eloquent about it at the same time?” The question was uttered more quietly than he usually spoke. Incidentally, ‘eloquent’ was one of the words he had picked up from listening to you intently during the course of your short liaison.

You gave a tiny, involuntary shrug. “As soon as you accept that nothing really matters, the concept of ‘shame’,” – you accompanied the word with a gesture indicating quotation marks –, “becomes kind of superfluous.”

Joey didn’t know what to reply to that. There had been a few times just like this one, when he had wondered and tried to understand what might be going on inside your head. Just like those times, however, he found himself once more forced to resign and accept that your thoughts were most likely beyond his comprehension.

By the time he snapped out of this chain of thought, you had put on your skirt – it was another one of those impossibly short skirts you always wore – and were now about to tie the laces of your knee-high boots. Sitting up on his bed, he quietly pondered whether he should just stand up, pick you up and physically force you back into bed with him, like a desire in the back of his head was telling him to do. He did indeed think it possible that you might appreciate such impetuosity on his part.

But then the right moment had come and gone. You had finished tying your shoes and straightened up, picking up your school bag and turning your head towards him as you took your first steps towards the door. He noticed your lack of any kind of jacket or coat, trying to recall whether you had worn anything of the sort when the both of you had walked together after school had ended. Soon, he realized that despite the fact that winter had taken a tight hold of Domino City a mere one and a half weeks ago, you hadn’t brought clothing befitting the weather in the first place.

Between the hem of your skirt and the top of your boots, the pale skin of your legs seemed to glare at him, somehow striking him as obscene in spite of the innocence of the scenery. What were you doing to him? He could not have _not_ noticed that you had ceased to wear leggings or even tights ever since that first night you had spent together. It shamed him how egotistically he assumed that he was the cause for your actions, just like it shamed him how much he wanted it to be that way.

He wanted to ask you whether you didn’t wear clothing appropriate for the weather because of him, and if it were the case, he wanted to tell you not to do so anymore. He wanted to offer you one of his jackets and then he wanted to walk you home. Eventually, he didn’t manage to voice any of these thoughts.

“When will I see you again?” he asked instead, immediately scolding himself for the obliviousness of the question.

By that point in time, you had had your hand on the doorknob for several moments, waiting for him to say something of the sort. You smiled a lopsided smile and shook your head – a motion he would have assumed to be condescending had he seen it.

“You see me at school every single day, Joey. If you are, however, referring to the next time we’ll be having sex, I’d say Friday. Thursday if I happen to feel like it. Is that okay with you?” You had intended to sound witty, only realizing how soft your voice was after you had spoken.

He hadn’t responded by the time you had shut the door behind you.


	4. ;adagio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-posted from my Luna account.
> 
> Original preface:
> 
> I cannot even find a coherent way to assure you guys how much your reviews mean to me.
> 
> Enjoy the longest chapter yet! ♥

The weekend had come and gone and before you knew it, it was Monday again. You sat in your usual seat inside the classroom, waiting for the first class of the week to start.

“Oh God, I hate Math so much, I can’t even find words to describe it,” your best friend’s annoyed voice sounded from the desk next to yours. “I swear I wouldn’t even be here if that stupid exam weren’t two weeks from now.” You turned your head to look at her, your chin resting in your palm as you were half-lying on the tabletop.

“I don’t think it’s all that bad. It’s kind of interesting,” you murmured tiredly, watching her brush her long hair as if she were actually convinced it had come to look inacceptable within the ten minutes it took her to get to school.

“Of course you think so. You’re good at this stuff. Everything is kind of great if you’re good at it.” Choosing not to object to this, you let this pointless conversation die down, shutting your eyes. Since you were not exactly a morning person, you thought you might as well get another five minutes of rest before the lesson was going to begin. This, however, proved to be a rather fruitless effort since students were now flooding into the room one after the next, the volume steadily rising.

“So, do you think two weeks will be enough for you to prepare for this exam? You do realize that it’s not just some test, but the final, right?” asked someone while walking past your first row desk.

“Of course I know that! And I managed not to be held back a year up until now, I think I’ll be able to pull it off one last time. Just trust me on this one,” replied a voice that you would by now recognize in any situation, the statement accompanied by a laugh. For a second, you became aware that you had never consciously heard Joey laugh. A moment later, said thought had already slipped your mind again.

Opening your eyes, you let your gaze wander towards where he had just sat down in a seat towards the back of the room, still caught up in a conversation with one of his friends. It was Yugi Muto, whom you had always found rather easy to overlook despite his tricolored hair.

Without ever having spoken about it, it seemed to you that Joey and you had come to a silent agreement. While you were at Domino High, where you were part of the popular clique – a group of people that, admittedly, you only sometimes could stand –, you didn’t know of each other’s existence.

To be honest, you didn’t mind that arrangement in the slightest. At least, you didn’t usually. Now, however, you for some reason couldn’t find it in you to look away from him as he was still speaking to his short friend.

You were not listening in on their conversation, and to be frank, you could not have cared less what they were talking about. Instead, you found yourself for the first time noticing how physically attracted you indeed were to Joey. His hair seemed to be just a little wet from snowflakes that had melted in the warm air inside the school building, his brown eyes not losing their warmth even in the cold, artificial light of the classroom.

He must have felt the intensity of your stare on him, for suddenly his eyes locked with yours. While you did feel a little as though you had been caught red-handed, there was no way you would show him that. You threw him the tiniest smile instead. He answered with a smile of his own. The next moment, however, his eyes dropped, breaking the eye contact.

Contemplating whether this was because he was embarrassed or because he feared somebody might see the both of you looking at one another this way, you turned your head back to the front. You eventually dropped the thought, deeming it unimportant. The teacher had arrived by now and class was about to start.

Sooner than you had expected it to, the late afternoon had come around and the school day was finally meeting its end. As the large double door was swinging in its hinges behind you, you were momentarily shocked by just how cold it was outside. The feeling passed quickly as you threw on the black winter coat that you had finally begun to bring with you after it had become too cold for even you to bear without a jacket.

Pushing your hands inside your pockets, you began to walk off the school grounds at a fast pace, careful not to slip on the partially frozen ground. Three blocks down the road, you had successfully caught up to the blonde that you were intent on spending the remaining hours of the day with.

He hadn’t noticed the steps approaching him until you were right next to him. You caught a glimpse of the surprised look on his face just before it disappeared again.

“I kind of had a feeling I’d see you after school today,” he said, and while he didn’t exactly sound overjoyed, you felt a positive vibe from him.

You released a short and quiet laugh.

“Was it that obvious?” You were not expecting an answer and thus did not feel disappointed when you didn’t receive one. Looking up at him while walking, you saw him looking down at you from the corner of his eye. You thought you had seen the remainder of a smile, but would not have placed a bet on it.

On several occasions, you had already thought of telling him that if he didn’t feel content with this liaison, which – much to your chagrin – was a sentiment you sometimes thought you could detect from him, he should simply tell you. You tried to convince yourself that you would not take it personal if that were the case. On the other hand, you weren’t irrational enough to actually believe you would not feel the slightest bit displeased if he actually were to end things as they were. So you kept quiet, deciding that the fact that he had not once so far denied you was a sign that he enjoyed what you had with each other.

You shook your head slightly to rid yourself of these thoughts, wondering for a split second when you had begun to think things through like this. It wasn’t like you at all to ponder how another person felt, and it wasn’t supposed to matter to you either.

The rest of the way towards his apartment, neither of you lost a word. You really didn’t mind it either. The first one or two times you had come home with him, he had awkwardly tried to make some kind of conversation with you, not doing himself a favor in the process. Afterwards, it seemed he had accepted your preference for not talking too much. Since then, a rather comfortable silence had come to settle between the both of you time and time again.

As soon as the door to his home had shut behind you, you immediately rid yourself of your boots and the coat you had been wearing, glad to finally find yourself among surroundings you had come to know well by now. Although there was no heating on, it felt comfortably warm inside Joey’s apartment compared to the ice cold temperatures outside.

While he was still busy taking off his jacket and shoes, you climbed on top of his bed and sat down with your back against the headboard and the wall behind it. The thought of having to leave and go outside again later this day made you cringe on the inside already.

Moments later, Joey finally came around the corner to find you waiting for him on his bed. He gave you an exhausted, but benign smile to which you responded by motioning for him to join you.

“Come here.” You knew that your voice was too soft for it to be taken as an order, but you didn’t even mind at this moment. 

He did as you wished and was soon next to you, leaning against the headboard as well. Grabbing your sides, he seemingly effortlessly pulled you into his lap so you were facing him. Your arms found their way around his neck, your faces now but a few centimeters from one another while his thumbs were softly stroking your skin through your shirt.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” you whispered before kissing him softly.

“So have I,” he replied a few moments later, after your lips had disconnected. You couldn’t help but smile at his honesty.

His hands moved from your waist to your thighs, rubbing up and down the bare skin.

“Your legs are so cold.” He emphasized this by squeezing the backs of your thighs. Your only reply was a small chuckle before you caught his lips with your own chapped ones once more.

Careful not to break the kiss, he flipped you over so you were lying on your back beneath him. In perfect synchronization, both of your mouths opened at the same instant, the kiss deepening as you welcomed his tongue with your own. You let the fingers of one of your hands weave into his soft hair. The other one found his hip, where you began to draw shapes into the skin underneath his shirt with the nail of your thumb, knowing very well how much that aroused him.

When you pushed him onto his back and pulled his shirt off over his head, he almost expected you to put a quick end to your make-out session to move onto more pressing matters. Instead of properly straddling him, however, you moved one of your legs between both of his and lay down on your side next to him. There was no space left between you as your body pressed against his side. He turned his head to look at your face, curious as to what was going on inside your head.

You smiled and pulled him into another open-mouthed kiss before letting your hand drop to his stomach, where you began to once more drag your fingernails across his skin softly.

The afternoon slowly turned into the evening as you continued to make out with each other, only slowly losing your clothes piece by piece. Every single touch, lick and small bite was delivered precisely and knowingly, the passion never turning into desperation or hurry like it had all those times before. By the time he eventually reached down and spread your opening with his fingers before finally lowering you down and entering you, you knew you were going to orgasm soon.

He moved in and out of you slowly, his strokes pinpointed to drive you to insanity. Kissing him deeply, breaking away only to whisper his name, you held onto his shoulders for support, all of the sensations you were experiencing threatening to make you lose your mind. You didn’t scream when you came, like you normally would have done. You were too consumed with how good your orgasm felt.

When he reached his peak, he pulled your hips against his forcefully to meet his last thrust, moaning your name against the side of your neck.

You stayed on top of him for a long while afterwards, too exhausted and content to say anything. He didn’t try to pull out of you, knowing exactly how much you liked to have him inside you for some time after you both had found release.

One of his arms draped itself around your form, holding you close. Absent-mindedly, you began to run your fingers through his disheveled, but still soft blond hair until you had regained your sense of time. You realized how late it must have had become.

A glance at Joey’s alarm clock assured you that you were not wrong. You had been too caught up in him and what he had been doing to you to notice it had become almost midnight.

Reluctantly, you persuaded yourself to get up, careful not to let the condom slip off as his member slid out of you.

“I have to go now,” you stated, collecting your pieces of clothing off the bed and floor and putting them back on.

“You can just sleep here. It’s too late for you to walk home all alone.” You could hear the honest concern in his voice, but did not react to it. You simply shook your head as a reply, not in the mood to even attempt to find a proper refutation.

The reason you could not sleep here was clear as day to you, so clear in fact that you wondered how he could not understand it. You had never spent the night here, and you did not want to have to deal with the implications it would bring.

So you simply put on your boots and coat and left.

You could not let yourself become attached.


	5. ;a cappella.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It lives!  
> (By 'it', I am referring to both the story and myself.)
> 
> Enjoy!

The following Sunday, you found yourself back in Joey’s apartment. It was the third time this week, and not a school day to boot. But your house had felt empty and cold. His place never did.

You locked the bathroom behind you, reconsidered for a moment, and unlocked it again. So what if he walked in on you naked? There was nothing about you he had not seen a fair amount of times at this point. Perhaps you even liked the idea of him being so bold as to come in while you were showering. It was a nice thought.

Tying a knot into the used condom, you threw it into the bathroom bin. Then you stepped into the rather small shower cabin. Since you had not put any clothes back on, you had none to take off now. You turned on the water, not even bothering to check what temperature it was set to. When the stream hit you, you flinched at the coldness. But you did not mind it, so you did not set it any warmer. You soon got used to the cold and opened one of the shower gel bottles resting inside a small plastic basket. It smelled like him. You decided you liked the scent enough to use it.

When you were finished and walked back into his living-slash-bedroom wrapped in one of his towels, you were surprised to see him sitting at the desk in the corner, boring over what looked like a school book. You felt reminded of a situation a while ago in which the roles had been reversed. For some reason, you had never even considered that he did schoolwork. He seemed liked the rebellious type, someone who did not care about grades or passing. You shrugged internally. There was something new to learn every day.

“What are you doing?” you asked, dropping the towel and bowing down to pick up your various pieces of clothing off of the floor. You were not actually all that interested, but you thought you could make a little conversation.

“Math.” He sighed, resting his forehead against the palm of his hand for a moment. “I still need to finish the stuff that’s due tomorrow.”

You remembered that tomorrow was Monday. Since you tended to do your homework the day it was given, you had nothing to worry about.

“Is it working?” You finished putting on your underwear and bra.

“Not at all, to be honest.” He sounded very frustrated. You cocked your head to the side. Since his back was turned to you, he did not see.

“What’s the problem?” you inquired, feeling the slightest bit weird because you had never asked him this many questions in a row. If he noticed, he did not let it show. You chased off the thought and pulled your tank top over your head instead.

“Everything. All of it. I’m just no good at the stuff.” He reached across the desk and flipped the book shut with a slamming noise.

You pulled up the zipper at the side of your skirt, smoothed your top over it and took the few steps that were necessary for you to stand next to him. Despite his handwriting that was indubitably that of a teenage guy, you were able to decipher his notes.

“Functional equations,” you stated. He nodded.

You gestured for him to move his chair back from the table a little. He seemed bewildered, but nonetheless did what you wanted him to. Taking a pencil in one hand, you used the other to hold onto his shoulder to steady yourself as you settled into his lap.

For a moment you thought he did not know what to do. But then his large hands grasped your hips, rearranging your sitting position on his leg so it was more comfortable for him. Once that was done he placed his arm around your waist to offer additional support. You put your own arm around the back of his neck and then proceeded to scribble an example for an equation on the sheet of paper lying before you.

You turned your head and looked at him to find that his eyes were already on you. In this position, you were a good bit taller than him. It was unusual to look at him from above like this.

You had to hand it to him, even if you did not count the way his body looked unclothed, he was very physically attractive. More so than he knew. Especially with the rugged, post-sex look he had going on right now.

“Your goal is to rearrange all the numbers and variables into a form that has the a, b, c and d parameters in the places you need them to be. Once you have that, you can easily draw it into a coordinate system.”

For the next hour and a half, you kept explaining the math homework to him, giving examples, calculating on paper and drawing graphs. Every now and then, you would pass him the pencil and see whether he could do it himself. He was a fast learner and with how productive you were, the time seemed to pass in a blink.

“So you just have to remember: d is where your graph and the y axis intersect. And once you have the slope, you can draw a triangle and find a second point. Then you draw a line through both points and you have your graph.”

He pulled the arm that had been around your waist the entire time back until only his hand rested on your side, just above your hip.

“Thanks for the help.” He cleared his throat and you had to keep yourself from chuckling at how obvious it was that he was desperately looking for the right kind of thing to say. You opted instead for throwing him a tiny smirk. 

“You’re… a really good tutor, you know.”

When he said nothing else, you took the ensuing silence to turn around in his lap a little to face him better. You noticed that his hand was about to drop from your hip and held it there with your own.

“If you’re worried about the final, I could actually tutor you, you know.” Your tone was calm, making it clear to him that if he did not want to, he did not have to take you up on the offer.

“I…” His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. “I think I could actually really use that, to be honest.” His eyes met yours for the fraction of a second before he looked down again, obviously embarrassed at how you had seen right through him and known he was scared of the final exam.

“But,” he continued, finally holding your gaze. “I can’t pay you.”

Just when you thought he was not able to surprise you, he said something as silly as this. You felt the edges of your mouth twitch but caught yourself before you could accidentally smile.

“Joey,” you said, voice quiet but emphatic. “I don’t want you to pay me. Don’t be ridiculous. Money doesn’t matter to me at all.” At that, his eyes moved away once more.

You took his head softly into your hands and made sure he was looking at you. The distance between your faces was almost insignificant at this point.

“There has to be some way for me to pay you back though.” His deep voice sounded a little raw.

You wondered whether he had chosen this way to word things on purpose, to give you an opening to use. But in truth, it did not matter.

“Oh, I can think of a way or a few.”

You moved so you were straddling one of his legs, the material of his jeans pressing against your barely covered center. Taking the hand of his that was not on your hip into one of your own, you pushed it against your breast and squeezed. He caught on almost immediately, reaching up so he could grasp both of them at once.

The moan you let out was a little louder than necessary, but if the hardening erection against your leg was any indication, it served its purpose.

“Actually, now that I think about it, you might just end up enjoying what I have in mind.”

One of his hands weaved its way into your hair.

“I can imagine,” he growled before pulling your head down to meet you in a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Indeed, an update. 'Tis not dead!  
> (If you're still reading this, I'd really appreciate it if you told me.)


	6. ;legato.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another update.  
> How did that happen?
> 
> I'd like to thank the amazing **giabia15** whose kind words encouraged me to write this up as quickly as I did.
> 
> I hope you like the new chapter. Don't refrain from telling me if you do!

The next day, you found yourself back at school. During the first period, you had unintentionally caught a glimpse at your friend’s semester planner. For the first time you had realized that Christmas – and with it, the winter dance and the break before your final exams – was fast approaching.

It felt weird to know that this part of your life was about to end. School had given you the possibility to just let life run its course, never having to consider what to do with yourself. You had not even thought about what to do with yourself afterwards yet. There was nothing you really wanted.

The day dragged on. Four subjects and eight hours later, the bell rang, signaling to every student and teacher the end of another school day.

Your group of friends quickly dispersed, each of them going their separate ways towards some kind of after-school activity or another. Taking your time to put your books into your locker, you lingered a while after everyone had left and the hall had grown quiet again.

Throwing your backpack over one shoulder, you began to walk into the direction of the exit. The sound of your heels hitting the tiled floor seemed too loud for your taste. You did not like to make noise.

Turning the corner, your eyes fell onto him. Joey was standing there in front a row of lockers, talking to a guy with weirdly styled brown hair. You searched your mind for some indication of whether you had seen them together before. Your search did not turn up anything. Since your social circles did not usually intersect, you knew next to nothing about his friends.

When you came closer, they noticed you and stopped speaking. They said nothing, and neither did you. But Joey’s eyes met your own and you held his stare. If his friend noticed, he did not let it show.

You passed them and they resumed their conversation. A little further down the hall, you stopped in front of an open door and turned around. His eyes were still on you while the other guy stood with his back towards you, thus unable to notice you were still there.  
Walking on the balls of your feet only so as to not make any noise, you entered the empty classroom – but not without winking at Joey before you disappeared and silently closed the door behind you.

As quietly as possible you set your backpack down on the floor next to the door. You were fairly certain he had gotten the hint. Maybe he would hurry up and end the conversation quickly.

Luckily for you, the room you had chosen was a chemistry classroom – consequently, there were no single seats, but rather large white plastic tables for each row. Glass instruments were lying around on some of them. You decided on one of the empty ones and sat down on the edge. Your feet did not reach the ground, dangling in the air instead.

Impatiently, you began to count the seconds in your head to pass the time. Of course you would not let him know you had been so impatient. He would only misinterpret things if you did.

Several moments later, the door opened slowly and quietly. 

He did not speak until he had closed it behind him.

“I got the impression you wanted to see me?” He noticed your bag on the floor and placed his own next to it.

You chuckled and threw him a smile that showed your teeth.

“Glad you caught on.” He raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure whether you were making fun of him or not but letting it slide.

“Come here, will you?” You reached out towards him with one hand, beckoning him to come closer. He followed your call and took your hand in his as soon as he was close enough to do so. You laced his fingers with your own and pulled him towards you. You stopped pulling and dropped his hand once he was close enough for your liking, leaning backwards on your hands and wrapping your legs around his hips instead.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” But his voice did not sound annoyed at all.

Your position allowed you to push out your chest a little more, so you did.

“Is that a formal complaint?” You looked up at him with big eyes and were able to basically watch him melt under your gaze. Having such an effect on him made you feel a bit proud of what you were capable of.

He shook his head slightly, as if he wanted to pull himself out of some sort of trance.

“Of course not.” His hands grasped the outside of your thighs, sliding up under your skirt until his fingertips touched the fabric of your panties.

“Good,” you replied, using your legs to pull yourself against him until your crotch was pressing against the front of his pants. “I just happen to find you quite irresistible.”

He did not speak, groaning instead as his eyes seemed to grow darker with desire. He began rocking against you and you could feel his semi-erection growing harder with each movement until he was completely stiff.

The way his palms were squeezing the naked flesh of your thighs combined with him rubbing against your clit and entrance through thin layers of clothing felt heavenly. You let your head fall backwards and enjoyed your own growing arousal.

You had completely forgotten that you had wanted to be quick about this. There was no way to lock the door and someone might have ended up walking in at any moment. When he forcefully squeezed your left breast, you were pulled back into reality.

You grabbed his shoulders and pushed him away from you a little. Using his moment of perplexity for your own plans, you got up off the table and switched your positions, pushing him against the edge you had been sitting on.

You knew that he was going to ask you something, probably what you were doing, but you cut him off before he could speak by pressing a kiss to his mouth.

“Just wait and see.”

You reached down and traced the outline of his cock through his pants with two fingernails, lingering on his tip. He cast his eyes down and watched as you unbuttoned his bottoms, letting them drop down and pool around his ankles. You squeezed him through his underwear, feeling a wet spot where his pre-come had leaked through the fabric.

Then, you pushed your hand under his waistband, following the trail of blond hair to the familiar warmth. You pumped him a few times, leaning forward and pecking the corner of his mouth. The muscles in his jaw were pulled tight with the attempt to not moan out loud.

You slowly knelt down in front of him, careful not to hit your knees on the hard floor. Finally pulling down his boxers you realized he was exactly the right height for this. His erection stood at what was almost a perfect right angle to the rest of his body – directly in front of your face.

Looking up, you saw he had his eyes closed, perhaps in anticipation of things to come.

“Joey,” you said in a quiet, teasing voice. “Look at me.”

He did and you felt another spark between your legs at the intensity of his gaze. You pressed them together, trying to provide some kind of friction for yourself. You did however not forget that this was about him first and foremost.

You opened your mouth and took in the first two inches, pressing your tongue to the underside and beginning to suck. His pre-come tasted salty and slightly bitter; a taste that was probably not for everyone, but you enjoyed it.

Bobbing your head back and forth slowly at first, you reduced the amount of suction whenever you pulled back and increased it every time you took him again.

You placed one hand on his thigh for support, looking at him from below as you took him deeper into your throat with each motion. You took the way his brow was furrowed in concentration as a sign that he enjoyed the sight of his dick disappearing into your mouth over and over.

His hands were on the edge of the table, grasping it tightly. You went it as far as was possible, willing the muscles of your throat to accommodate his girth and swallowing around him a few times.

When you pulled back again, you almost let him leave your mouth completely, but not quite. Taking shallow breaths through your nose, you reached up and grabbed one of his wrists. He let go of the table and let you lead his hand to the back of your head. You placed it there and pushed down, showing him what you wanted him to do in practice.

His eyes posed a silent question and you gave the answer by pressing your own head down with his hand a little harder, taking his cock deeply into your throat once more.

His fingers tightened in your hair and pulled you back a bit before pushing you back down again, not as being as rough as he could have been. It was apparent he did not want to hurt you, and you appreciated the sentiment, even if it was unnecessary. 

You relaxed your throat as well as you could, letting him take the lead and just losing yourself in the moment as he fucked your mouth. He set a somewhat slow rhythm, giving you enough time to breathe in whenever he pulled you back. 

Unable to properly swallow your own saliva, you could feel a small trail running down the side of your mouth. You did not mind. You liked this; you liked his taste, you liked how he found the exact amount of roughness you needed, you liked surrendering yourself to him like this.

His movements grew faster, more frantic, less controlled and that was how you knew he was close to coming. Moments later, he let go of the back of your head, and gave your shoulder an urgent squeeze instead. 

You knew what he was trying to tell you, but you saw no need to cease you ministrations. So you continued what you were doing, sucking harder than before, only stilling when you could feel and taste his semen on the back of your tongue.

His orgasm continued, several more spurts of come filling your mouth. You kept swallowing until you were certain he was done. You let another moment pass before pulling away.

Only then, in the silence that was only broken by his heavy breathing, you realized how much your knees hurt. You had been too distracted by the act to notice.

When he reached down and pulled you up into a standing position, you were a little unstable on your legs. He held onto your shoulders and looked at your knees. Seeing the red imprints from the classroom floor, he sighed.

“Fuck,” he stated in a low voice, and you weren’t sure whether he was referring to your knees or the general situation at hand. Perhaps he meant both.

He looked so spent, his face red with either embarrassment or exertion, half naked and pants around his ankles. You could not help but release a quiet laugh. You would have bet a lot of money that you probably did not look any less done for than him.

That thought found support when he took your face in one of his large hands, wiping a small amount of spittle from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. Lovely.

You did not expect him to pull you closer but he did, pushing your foreheads together gently.

“You wanna come home with me and let me make it up to you there?”

Was that… hopefulness you heard in his voice? Perhaps. Or maybe you were mistaking the contentment of his afterglow for something it was not. 

“Well, the math homework’s not going to finish itself,” you joked, pulling away from him.

The artificial light of the classroom suddenly seemed brighter than it had until just now, as if a spell had been broken when you spoke. Your surroundings seemed more real, for better or for worse. 

“All you need to do now is pull up your pants so we can leave.”

If you had been honest with yourself, you would have admitted that you were actively breaking the promise you had made to yourself in regards to not letting him get too close to you. Twice yesterday and again today – even if it was just sex, he was becoming a fixture in your life. But you had not been lying when you had told him that you found him irresistible. Just one more time and then you would begin to reduce the amount of time you spent together, you decided.

When you turned to Joey, he had finished dressing himself and was looking at you expectantly. Apparently he had noticed you zoning out.

Neither of you said anything.

You filed away your cognitive and emotional dissonance somewhere at the very back of your mind to be forgotten about at a moment’s notice.

You did not go home that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Years after starting this story, it has now passed the 10,000 words mark. My first story to do so! How amazing is that?


	7. ;pianissimo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will finish this story, even if it kills me! :o
> 
> Just kidding. I know the rare updates speak a different kind of language, but I love this story a whole lot.
> 
> Complications ahead!
> 
> (And once more, special shoutout to **giabia15** who seems to always read my Joey things and leaves encouraging reviews. It means a whole lot to me.)

You woke up to see a ceiling that was not your own. Through the curtain-less windows the light from the street-lamps outside fell in and formed lopsided shapes on the opposite wall. It was still dark, but definitely morning.

You would have expected more surprise on your own part in the event of this.

That surprise never came and you had to admit to yourself that it had been predictable. Trying to keep your emotional distance and guard up had been a faulty plan from the start. There had never been a single point in time when it was going to work. And you could have known that, had you not chosen to ignore your doubts.

Falling asleep in someone’s arms was strange. If you had ever done it before, you were unable to recall it. So it might as well have been the first time. So strange. But comfortable, most likely due to the fact that it had not simply been an unspecified someone. It had been Joey. And maybe that was not so horrible after all, you allowed yourself to consider.

Speaking of Joey – you looked next to yourself to find him sleeping calmly, face devoid of worry or any other negative emotion. You could not help the thought that followed: That he rarely, if ever, looked this way around you. He always seemed a little stressed, a little doubtful, a little too deep in thought.

If that was the effect you had on him, why were the two of you – whatever you were – even still happening? You lingered on that question for a few moments before giving up. As long as you were benefitting from it, you should not be questioning things, you decided.

Sitting up to look at the alarm clock on the nightstand behind him, you noticed it was almost time to get up if you were to make it to school on time. As if on cue, the digital display switched to the full hour and the alarm rang.

Without opening his eyes, Joey turned over in a motion that had clearly become automatic from habit and hit the snooze button. If his sleepy groan was any indication, he wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep.

You did not actively decide to, but you caught yourself reaching out and softly dragging your fingernails across the back of his shoulder. He jumped a little in surprise at your touch and immediately rolled over to look at you. His eyes were unfocused for a moment but soon settled on your face.

He whispered your name softly as a smile formed on his face. “You’re still here.”

He could have stared at your breasts that had been bared when you had sat up and the blanket had fallen around your waist. Instead, he was looking right into your eyes. What a strange one he was indeed.

You left his happy realization uncommented. “We should get ready for class.” But you were surprised at the warmth that had snuck into your voice.

And so you did. You got dressed while he took a quick shower and dried his hair. You collected the Math notes that belonged to you from his desk. While most of yesterday had been spent in his bed, the two of you had still managed to make a little time for you to explain some things to him.

Despite his somewhat bad self-image, he was a rather fast learner. You did not think of yourself as an extraordinary tutor, so maybe he simply needed someone to take a little bit more time and explain some things in different terms.

You also put his own notes and sheets into a neat stack so he would be able to pack them quickly as soon as he came out of the bathroom.

When he did, he unceremoniously handed you a toothbrush. A pink toothbrush, in fact.

“Thought you might wanna brush your teeth,” he explained. 

“Not into the color, I assume?” you joked.

He got a little defensive immediately. “No, I just… I’m just trying to be nice.” He looked down towards his feet.

“Relax. You _are_ nice and I appreciate it. Thank you.”

You pushed past him into the small bathroom and brushed your teeth. Looking into the mirror, you noticed how tousled your hair was. For a moment, you considered using his hairbrush. Then you decided that it was a look and left it the way it was.

A morning-after look for a morning after.

When you arrived at school together, you did not run into anybody in front of the building or in the hallways. It must have been an incredible coincidence, but it allowed you to enter the classroom a few moments ahead of him, raising no suspicion whatsoever.

For the rest of the week, things went as usual. On the weekend, you spent a little more time at Joey’s than on weekdays, but that was not anything out of the ordinary. It was just like last week, which had been like the week before that, which had been like the month before that.

Still, something in your dynamic had shifted, and you were not quite able to name what it was.

The next week was more stressful since exams were now upon you.

For you personally, it was not as bad as it could have been – you had always done well in school, with or without trying very hard. But for Joey, the same could not be said. He had not approached you at all for days and – well able to read the situation – you had given him the space and time he needed to concentrate.

And while it had not exactly been your intention, the pause in your liaison did make you reconsider things.

On one of those days, you walked home to your too-big house. You entered your too-quiet room and sat down on your too-empty bed. There, you came to a decision.

You had broken your very own rule by staying over at his place. There had been only one such rule – not to let yourself develop an attachment. And that meant not doing anything you would not be able to take back emotionally. You could not take back staying the night. And whether he read anything into it or not, you had still tripped yourself.

It had only been one moment of weakness that had led you to make a wrong choice.

What had you been thinking? There was no ‘you and Joey’ and there was never going to be one. It may have sounded lovely, and maybe if you had been a different person, or the same person in a different life, or a different person in a different life, it could have happened.

But not while you were you, and not in this universe.

It had been nice while it had lasted. That was an understatement – it had been downright wonderful, even if it had only been sex. The tears burning at the backs of your eyes were testament to the fact that you had let things go too far already.

Biting the tip of your tongue harshly, you concentrated on the physical pain until the urge to cry had subsided.

You had let yourself become attached, and now you would have to suffer for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews always make my week. :)


	8. ;marcato.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is long and plot-heavy. Do be warned.
> 
> If you're interested, a good song to go with this is 'Walls' by The Stars. It kind of works as a theme for this entire story. Maybe listen to it after reading the chapter - wouldn't want you to spoil yourself even the tiniest bit after all.

Two weeks later – and three weeks since you had last interacted with Joey. Twenty days since you had woken up next to him, to be exact – you had willed yourself time and time again not to count them, but it had proven impossible. You had not had to go to school ever since the final exams had ended, and with nothing else to do, you had been thinking of him a lot. Thinking of what could have been. Of a potential something more, nipped in the bud – voluntarily so on your part, but still one of the hardest decisions you had ever made.

The exam results were probably online by now. People would be preparing for the graduation celebration. A celebration you could not care less about. You had not even been able to muster up enough enthusiasm to check your marks.

These past two weeks, you had hardly left the house – with a big house came a big fridge and you had not had to. Today, when you had opened said fridge’s door to find yourself face to face with the entirety of one moldy orange, you had finally decided to go shopping. Even if everything tasted the same to you these days, and it was difficult to muster up the energy for much. What had come first, the lack of energy or the inability to eat more than absolutely necessary? It did not matter.

After finishing your grocery shopping trip, you took your car home and pulled into the driveway in front of your house’s double garage. It had been getting dark when you had gone out, and by now it was pitch black outside despite the hour not being that late. Winter. It had been your favorite season once, and now it just seemed to drag on forever and ever, underlining your less-than-stellar state of mind.

The blackness of the night was cut only by small snowflakes and the surrounding streetlamps. At least that was what you thought until suddenly, the lamp outside your front door was activated by its motion sensor. And there he stood.

Joey Wheeler, in the flesh. He was not dressed for the weather in his green jacket, and his grumpy face betrayed the fact that he had probably been out here longer than he liked.

You considered for a moment whether to simply back out of the driveway and take off – you had been an asshole to him before, why stop now? – but then he was already strutting over to the flank of your car and looking inside through the passenger side window. He was staring straight at you, expression neutral but focused. You shrank a little – his presence intimidated you and you had had no opportunity to plan ahead what you might do in a situation like this. His sudden appearance had taken the control from your hands; you had not been prepared for that.

“Fuck,” you mumbled so quietly you barely heard it yourself and pressed the button on the console that unlocked the doors. He opened it and just for a moment, you could hear how loudly the wind was blowing outside until he got in and pulled the door shut.

You were not going to start this conversation. After an eternal three seconds, he did.

“Fancy car,” he stated, and you felt his eyes on the side of your face.

You nodded in the absence of a better reaction. “Used to be my mother’s.” He probably would not know what to do with that information, you realized, but it did not matter – this situation in and of itself was so surreal that nothing mattered now.

“I kinda knew you were probably from a better background than me but I wasn’t expecting… that.” He made a motion in the direction of your house with one thumb, and that little movement paired with the audible swallow during the pause spoke more than a thousand words – you were more than a little rich, it was true.

“Surprise.” You tore your gaze from his hands where it had lingered. You had always liked his hands – they were large, a little worn and quite masculine. Great hands. You still were not able to look at his face though. “Want me to drive somewhere?” you asked, simply for the sake of saying anything at all.

“I don’t care. I wanna talk to you. Here or wherever.”

“Wherever it is then.” You turned the key in the ignition, switched gears and backed out of your driveway.

For a while, you drove around aimlessly. It gave you something to concentrate on and that meant not having to focus on Joey’s presence a mere half meter from you. Without really meaning to, you eventually drove out of the city and to a nearby public parking lot. Usually people left their cars here when they went hiking in the hills. It was entirely deserted this time of year and day. So you stopped right in the middle of the lot, turning off the engine but leaving the heating on – it was freezing after all, and while you did not mind, you had an inkling he did.

You took off your seatbelt and waited. When he did not say anything, you became increasingly agitated. Deciding to cure your agitation through nicotine, you instinctively reached into the passenger seat’s leg area for your bag. In the process, you brushed against his knee and it felt almost as if someone had pushed a knife into your stomach. How stupid of you. He moved his leg to the side to give you better access and you pulled out your cigarettes, quickly pushing one between your chapped lips and angrily attempting to use the lighter one, two, three times before it worked. You took a deep drag and breathed out through your nose, regretting it almost immediately. Smoking in a car was always a bad idea, but you never seemed to learn.

“I asked one of your school friends who’s friends with Téa for your address. If she thought it was weird, she didn’t say anything. Just mentioned she hadn’t seen you around. And that you hadn’t been replying to her texts. Think that might be why she gave it to me in the first place, so someone would check on you.” Between each of the sentences, there was a short pause. But apparently realizing you had little to offer reply-wise, he kept speaking. “There were no lights on, and I was just gonna leave when you came back.”

“Did you walk?” you asked, opening the window on your side the tiniest bit to flick the ashes outside.

“Yeah.” You looked at him for a short moment to assess his mood. His expression was still neutral but there was a heaviness about him that felt almost tangible. It stung to realize.

“That’s pretty far.”

“You’d know,” he stressed. “You walked there in the middle of the night from my place. Alone.”

You shrugged. It seemed like a childish action since you knew what he was trying to tell you – but you felt the need to underline that it was no one’s business but your own what you did or did not do at night.

“Why?” he asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do you do those things?” He was more insistent now, and you crossed your arms at the change in tone. “Walking home alone in the middle of the night. Wearing next to nothing when you go outside even though it’s freezing. Being cold as ice to me one day and then saying you can’t get enough of me the next. Staying…” he trailed off, apparently having said more than he had intended to.

You were not going to let him waste his words. “Staying over at your place for the first time and then disappearing forever?” you offered.

The low noise he gave was more agreement than denial.

“I do it because nothing matters.” You threw the burnt down filter out into the snow and rolled the window back up, grateful that the light inside the car had long since turned off automatically, offering you a little camouflage in the dark as your lips trembled dangerously. “Nothing at all in this goddamn shit world matters.”

“You said that before,” he answered, seeming to only now remember. “That night when…”

“…when it all began. Yes. And I stand by it. That’s the reason.”

“I don’t think so.”

What did he mean? If that was the reason you gave, he was supposed to accept it. To move on and disappear never to be seen again. Like you would have, if he had left you a choice.

“It is. It is.” You were going to say something else to reinforce that it was the reason, and it was the only reason he needed to know, to make him believe it. But the tears had come by then, and you prayed to all deities you did not care for or believe in to not let him see them.

“It’s not, or you wouldn’t be crying,” he said, voice softening now.

“I…” you started weakly before the first loud sob made its way out. You had not cried in so long, it was beyond embarrassing.

He tried to reach for your hand, but as soon as he brushed it, you formed yourself into a ball by pulling your knees against your chest and wrapping your arms around both them and yourself. The hand he had reached out came to rest back on his own leg, and he looked away for just a moment before continuing to watch you.

He watched as you cried, trying very hard to keep the rocking of your shoulders and body under control. But the tears would not stop, not for ten minutes at least. Your voice would not be normal anytime soon, you realized with horror. You would have to swallow the bitter pill and let him hear your weakness as well as seeing it.

“I left because I knew I did not deserve you.”

“That’s bullshit –“ he immediately interrupted, but you would not let yourself be interrupted. He had wanted to know, and he would know.

“It’s not. I’m the type of girl who uses you for weeks, completely aware that I’m hurting you by not giving you more than exactly as much as I want to give. And you’re the kind of guy who instead of being angry at me for misleading him and hurting his feelings worries about me. ‘Why do you walk home alone?’ Because I deserve to be alone. Because I’m a bad person. ‘Why do you dress like this in this weather?’ Because I deserve to hurt. Because I’m a bad person.” Your voice had not risen above a low and steady volume throughout your monologue. With how little inflection there was, it sounded more like you were quoting a newspaper article than talking about your inner workings.

“You’re not a bad person.”

“I am, and you know it. Are you not angry at me at all?”

“I am. But I can be angry and worried at the same time. Not like they’re mutually exclusive.” He was gesticulating now as you could see when you lay your head on your knees and looked over at him.

You could not help but smile – all while still losing a tear here and there, and while feeling colossal disdain for yourself. He was so, so lovely in how honest he was. How could there have been a time when you did not see that?

“So why do you keep saying you’re a bad person? Anything to back that up?”

“If the fact that I’ve mistreated you isn’t enough.” You sighed. “Bad things happen to bad people. So if bad things happen to me it’s because I’m a bad person.”

The mood shifted. You wondered for a moment whether maybe the heating had stopped working, but noticed you could still hear it blowing out air. The atmosphere had simply grown chilly when Joey had realized that he had been digging in the right spot. Suddenly, your eyes were dry. You felt weirdly disconnected from this body of yours and its functions.

“So… a bad thing happened to you.” He tested, slowly inching towards the question you knew he wanted to ask.

You blinked at him slowly, a positive response.

“Can you tell me?”

Now or never, and never was no longer a viable option.

“My mother died. Overnight. Heart attack.”

“Shit.” The word escaped him obviously without his intention. “And your…”

You finished his sentence. “…father’s been out of the picture for a long time. Yes.”

“Shit.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

You simply shrugged, not quite knowing what else to do with yourself. This was the first time you had told anybody, and while you had imagined telling someone several times throughout the time that had passed, you had never imagined it correctly. It did not make it more real. It still sounded as hollow as it had in your head.

“I don’t know what to say,” he added a few moments later.

“Don’t have to. It’s fine.” Your voice was slowly regaining its normal, no-highs-no-lows soft quality. You liked it better that way.

“How long ago?”

“Four months.”

“That’s not long…” he trailed off when he apparently started doing the math in his head. “That was just before when we first…” He was not yelling or even anything close to it, but you could hear the exclamation point in his tone nonetheless.

“Yes,” you confirmed. “Two weeks before _we_ began.” It was a weird way of phrasing it, but since there had never been a definition of what ‘you’ had been it would have to suffice.

“I…” He cleared his throat and avoided your eyes. “I need to ask you something, even if it’s kinda out of place.”

“Do it.”

“Did you sleep with me because you wanted to sleep with _me_ or because you wanted to sleep with _someone_?”

You swallowed, knowing he was hoping for a different answer than you were going to give. “Someone.” You had to be honest. You owed him that much. “I’m sorry, Joey.”

It was the first time this night that you had said his name. The first time in weeks, and it seemed to cause another emotional shift in him.

“Why me though?!” All of his pent-up anger, fit neatly into two simple words, louder than necessary. Just as suddenly as it had come, his aggression was gone again – replaced by a certain forlornness. “Why did you choose me? Why did you sleep with _me_?”

“Why did _you_ sleep with _me_ , Joey?” You returned the question to him.

“Because you jumped me and I know better than to say no when good things come my way. Easy. Why did _you_ sleep with _me_?”

Another answer he would not like. “Because I went a bit crazy that night and you were there when I did. Did you look into my eyes then? That’s not what sane me looks like. If it had not been you, it would have been someone else.”

He pushed his face into one of his hands, rubbing his forehead while a snarl that was quite untypical for him appeared on his features. You needed to keep talking before the moment was lost.

“But I’m glad it _was_ you, Joey. I didn’t know it then, but I made a good choice. The best. That’s why it happened again.” _– and again and again and again_.

He shook his head in disbelief. “I’m repeating myself here, but… I don’t know what to say. I didn’t expect tonight to go anything even remotely like this.” He paused. “But I guess it makes sense now why there was no light on at your place. And the car. And the weirdness. All of it.”

You tried to think of something to say, but you had said so much already. You had spoken more tonight than the past few weeks combined, you realized. Most of your time had been spent all by yourself, not saying anything, not hearing anything be said. A home could turn into a silent shrine awfully fast.

“But… you’re still not a bad person.” At this, you shook your head vehemently. Despite that, he still kept on speaking. “You’re punishing yourself for something that’s not your fault.” You just kept shaking your head as the tears came back, as suddenly as they had disappeared. “Letting yourself be happy for a moment doesn’t mean you’re not strong.” _But what if it does?_ “Just that you’re human.” _I need to be strong, not human._ “You can’t let the grief eat you like this.” _But I want it to. I want it to eat me whole._

Next you did something entirely out of character. Vision blurred by the unending flow of salt water, you turned in your seat, climbed across the middle console and placed yourself in Joey’s lap, pushed you face into his shoulder and bawled. You held onto him for dear life as you cried for all you had lost and would continue to lose. He welcomed you into his body like a strong protector, making you feel tiny in comparison. You wanted to be tiny. You wanted to crawl into him and disappear.

No one could have said how long you cried. Both the tear flow and your sobbing weakened over time and eventually you simply lay in his arms, breathing him in while he ran his hands up and down your back, not sure whether you were actually done crying yet or not.

About half an hour later, you were alone in the passenger seat, wrapped around yourself. Joey had moved to the driver’s seat, deeming you unfit to drive – rightly so.

If you had been in your right mind, you would have worried about the awful side of you you had let him see tonight. But you were not in your right mind, and it was better this way; you spent the way back looking at his profile and letting yourself admire its shape. With your resolve weakened partially from oversharing, partially from crying, and partially from being comforted by him you were able to think such thoughts completely without remorse.

Eventually, you had made it home. To your home, that is. By the time you noticed you should probably be getting out of the car, he had already opened the door on your side and unfastened your seatbelt. He took both of your hands in his own and pulled you into a standing position. The motion sensor reacted and the lamp next to your house’s door turned on, too bright and too suddenly.

Both of your hands were still entwined with his and you were unable to see his face due to the illumination from behind him when he spoke.

“I could spend the night, you know.” The words were simple, but the graveness of his meaning was not lost on you.

You knew that for how little you could make out of his features, he would be able to see your own all the better.

“If you’ll still have me,” you whispered and smiled at him. You could downright feel its warmness in the corners of your lips.

“I will.”

You lead him inside, past the living room where dust had long since settled on every surface. Past the kitchen that had not been cooked in, past the table that had the paper from four months ago still on it, up the stairs and into your room. The only room in the house you had properly existed in over the past months.

You fell asleep with him that night. Not simply in his arms, the way you had done accidentally three weeks prior. No, this time, you wrapped yourself around him as if he would prove himself to be a figment of your imagination if you did anything less.

And you kissed him goodnight, an action that turned out to be more intimate than anything else you had ever done to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... turned out somewhat autobiographical in parts. (Ew.)
> 
> So... it really would mean a lot to me to hear a response for this specific chapter. Because this is the plot-twist things have been leading up to all this time.
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me, dear reader. I would be honored if you yet continued to do so.


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